Crying Wolf
by Kitty Kat K.O
Summary: When all she had she considered a game, how was he to ever know when she was telling the truth? BeatoxBattler drabble


**A/N: **I _should_ be writing my contest entry for another fandom. I _should_ be writing it _right now, _considering the deadline is the weekend. And yet, even knowing this, I'm still posting this little drabble thing. XD Bah, when inspiration strikes, just go with it, ne? XD

Saying that, a little explanation about this... drabble? ficlet?... whatever it is. See, I've been re-watching the Umineko anime recently, and fangirling over a certain pairing with a friend of mine - but it suddenly struck me that Beatrice never really seems to mean anything she says or does, does she? Even when it seems like she does, it comes back as a slap in the face later on in each arc, when she reveals she was just tricking Battler (or whichever other character) the whole time. That's how I perceive it, at least. ^^" That, along with a pen in my hand and the "_should be doing something else" _just led to this thing here. Hopefully it's an alright fic, though I'm kinda unsure about it... Please enjoy it!

**Disclaimer: **I guess I don't own Umineko, else I'd be rich rather than broke. XD

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Crying Wolf

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There were times he would look at her and wonder how on earth he could be so indescribably cruel. Had she always been like this, so brutal and sadistic? Merciless? Or - he dared himself the chance to wonder - had she once been a kind-hearted, selfless and empathetic girl? Battler scoffed. If so, those days were clearly long over - one look at the sinister smirk she wore on her face when committing all of those vicious killings showed proof of that. Oh, sure, he'd believed she had mended her torturous ways when his Aunt Eva had claimed her title… But he had been destroyed inside when he had found she had been deceiving him that whole time. That it had been nothing more than a joke, a prank. A lie. Now, he wondered how he could ever come to place even the smallest ounce of trust in her again. He just… could never allow himself to get that close to her anymore, to believe in what she said and rely on it the way he had done. Because, after all, wouldn't any of her "attempts" just be her playing with him again, as she always did?

"Hey, Beato!" he called, deciding to venture his ponderings aloud. Noticing he had successfully managed to snap the Golden Witch from her reverie, and ignoring the way she glared at him for interrupting her deep thought, he continued, "Is everything a game to you?"

This piqued her curiosity, her glare dropping instantly from her face as one eyebrow raised in a moment of surprise, before her facial expression changed and her lips curved into a fine smirk. "Oh? And where exactly did that come from?" Beatrice questioned, sinking her cheek into her hand, where it rested - propped up - on the arm of the chair in which she sat. Her fingers idly began to twirl around a stray lock of hair as she gazed at him, her intense stare burning into him and making the normally composed young man squirm.

"A-ah. Nowhere. I was just wondering," Battler muttered, turning his head so that he was looking away from her as he blushed, fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket whilst doing so. But Beatrice's cackle brought his head darting back round to face her, his big, blue eyes wide in a sort of confused shock. "B-Beato?" he stuttered, forgetting about the rosy hue that adorned his cheeks.

She composed herself almost effortlessly quickly, giving him her full attention as she spoke. "Is that so? Omoshiroi~ Then I shall honour your 'wonderings' and answer your question." With another cackle, she pressed on, "Yes, Ushiromiya Battler. Everything is no more than a mere game to me. Convenient to consider it such, ne? Seeing as how it can stave of such boredom."

Her voice was its usual taunting velvet purr, but unlike normal, it was grating on Battler's nerves. He didn't know why, but it was what she said and in the way she said it… It just enraged him. Should it? After all, it was _Beatrice _he was talking to; he knew he shouldn't accept such a simple answer so naively. And it wasn't as if he cared that she thought of everything that came her way as only a game - it wasn't like he cared about the role he played in her life... was it? No, all he should care about was winning the game against her and thus succeeding in bringing normality back to his own world. But… he felt offended for some reason that he just couldn't put his finger on. Hurt, almost; as if he wished he could play a more significant part to her. He shook his head, trying to shake the ridiculous thoughts from ridiculing him. She watched with interest, cackling lightly at his display. And that just tipped him over the edge completely; his fingers curled inwards so that his hands clenched into tight fists, but continued to retract, until he felt the pain in his palms where his nails dug into the skin. Then they began to tremble atop the arms of his chair, and his teeth grit together, with incoherent, nonsensical splutters escaping from between them every other second. And then, all of a sudden, his posture eased and he stopped. Stopped his balled up fists from quaking, released his palms from pain, and pried apart his teeth. And this just served to entertain Beatrice all the more.

"Hai. I see your point. Now say it in red, Beato." There was no question to his voice this time; it was a direct command, an order that left no room for disobedience. His head was down as he spoke, chin tucked under so that she could only just about make out his nose and mouth from where she sat. For the second time in roughly five minutes, Beatrice quirked an eyebrow.

"Eh… What's with _you, _Battler~? You're acting more stupid than usual." When he didn't respond, she pouted childishly, narrowing her eyes into a glare. He was supposed to reply to her! How dare he not! Huffily, she resumed her speech, shrugging off the fact he did not answer her as he should have. "But fine. I shall say it in red if that's what you so wish; it at least serves to keep me amused, watching you flounder and mood-swing when asking such a ridiculous question. Well~? Are you watching, Battler~?"

He raised his head a fraction, just so he could see her as she repeated her previous statement.

The colour swirled around the room as he had wanted... but it only made Battler's heart sink. He didn't even hear the words she said, his ears tuned out to the sounds around him, and just watched as they swirled around in the surrounding air. And that was that. With a forceful push, he bolted from his chair and disappeared in a sudden cloud of golden butterflies, leaving a shocked Beatrice in his wake.

* * *

He should have known; should have known he was no more than a game piece to her, no more than an insignificant toy to play with while she was bored. But still it hurt. Why it hurt, why he wanted her to think of him as at least an acquaintance or friend… or possibly more - he raised his head from the bed where it lay, wildly flinging it from side to side in an attempt to purge the revolting thought from his mind - he really didn't know. Was it possible he had held her up higher than he should have, in regards to perhaps being a friend of his? And thus, in return, he wanted her to show him the same respect? That was likely - he knew her far too well by now to consider her a stranger. So friendship - even with such a cruel monster - was acceptable in his circumstance, right? Right, that's all it was, he assured himself as he gripped the bedcovers tighter in his hands. A lone tear escaped from his ducts, falling silently down his cheek and dropping onto the quilt beneath him. He'd get over it, he was sure. He'd learn to accept that nothing she said or did was real, and that it was really all for her own entertainment, watching him flap the way he did over her comments and actions. Battler just needed to stop believing anything she said.

And this resolution was why several days later, when she announced out of the blue that she loved him, he rejected her flat out. How was he to know it was the truth this time, when all she ever did was mess with him?

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**A/N: **I kinda feel like I've managed to go and get them way OOC. ^^" Sorry about that. And also, apologies for the blunt ending - I'm too used to tying up a fic with humour, and this... clearly isn't a humour story. ^^" Maybe I need more work with alternate-genre endings?

Review, pretty please? ^_^


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